Page 140 of Power of the Mind

His actions.

Tallus moved his hand from my shoulder to my face, cupping my iron-tense jaw and tracing his thumb along my cheek. “You’re going to crack your teeth in half.”

I was an earthquake, bones fracturing, foundation crumbling.

“Diem.” Tallus’s voice came from far away. “Diem, come here.”

“No.”

“Come here.”

But as I was floating away, he called me back. He said my name again and again and again.

I stole a desperate glance at Tallus. He nodded reassuringly, applying the faintest pressure with his fingers to the back of my head, urging me to move toward him. “Come here,” he said again, softer.

In the next moment and without conscious thought, I moved, my ear resting in the middle of Tallus’s chest. The steady beat of his heart wrapped all around me like a comforting blanket. I closed my eyes and listened to its strong rhythmic pace.

He held me there for a long time, stroking fingers over my shorn hair, soothing and comforting. Safe. Long enough, the last bits of adrenaline and rage faded, and the internal quaking finally stopped.

***

I wanted a cigarette more than ever, but my focus changed once the ground had solidified and Tallus had explained how we might find the evidence we were looking for. Ignoring the itchynicotine craving and the immense mountain of shame that had surfaced after the Hilty incident, I took the reins and got us moving.

The more I was around Tallus and the more he witnessed my instability, the worse I got. No amount of warning frightened him off, so it was best we closed this case and put distance between us.

We arrived at Hilty’s office by eleven. Our once-clear day had turned into an overcast night. The glow from the streetlights reflected off low-hanging clouds, casting an orange-yellow haze over the city. The air was humid and smelled of rain and ozone. A north wind brought pockets of cold air that touched my cheeks like phantom fingers, there and gone in an instant. A front was moving in. I could feel it, smell it.

The frightened doctor must have gone home to his wife after I threw him out. His car was not in the lot. In fact, the strip mall was deserted. The restaurant across the street was closed. Even the traffic on the main road was light. The Sunday night calm had set in.

Vision-compromised Tallus waited beside the Jeep. I’d parked in the shadow of the giant green dumpster used by Hilty’s office, Janek’s business, and the independent bookstore. I took a stroll around the side of the building and wandered up and down the street to be sure there weren’t random people slinking around who might see us and call the cops.

Satisfied, I returned to find Tallus balanced on the protruding metal shelf of the dumpster, where the garbage truck inserted the lift arm. Holding the lid above his head, he peered into its bowels, his features pinched with disgust.

“Eager?” I hadn’t spoken much in the last hour. Single words here and there, but Tallus hadn’t reprimanded me for the lack of communication. It was like he knew. Like he understood.

Tallus made a retching noise as he jumped down, letting the lid slam with a loud crash. “I’m not going in there. It fucking reeks.”

“This was your theory.”

“Yeah, and I know I’m right, but come on.” He pitched a face and whined, coming just short of stamping a foot. “Do you smell that?”

“Yes. Smells like garbage that has been cooking in the late summer sun for an entire fucking week.”

“Exactly.”

“Janek said pick up is tomorrow, so if you’re sure about this, we have to do it tonight. It could be our only chance to find proof.”

“And if I’m wrong?”

“Then we get dirty for nothing.”

“We?” He glanced down at his trim trousers, loafers, and buttoned shirt. “These are expensive clothes.”

“Do you own any other type of clothes?”

“Not really.” He gave me an abashed smile. With the crooked glasses, it gleamed boyishly. “But that’s for me and my future therapist to deal with. I have never denied having expensive tastes, and I’m sure there’s a twelve-step program for shopaholics, but I’m not ready to change. D? Could you…” He eyed the dumpster. “You know… Please.” His bottom lip jutted a fraction.

I grumbled under my breath.

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